Aftermath
by forever fan
Summary: Making the right decision doesn't mean it won't have consequences. Part four of the journal series of stories.


Title: Aftermath

Author: Forever Fan

Rating: T

Spoilers: A few

Category: Romance/Supernatural

Disclaimer: This property belongs to David Gerber Productions and FOX Television.

I make no profit and intend no infringement.

Summary: Making the right decision doesn't mean it won't have consequences. Part four of the journal series of stories.

Feedback: Yes, please

**Journal: His**

When I started this journal, I only expected to make a few entries. I just wanted to get a few thoughts on paper to clear my head and figure out where some things were going in my life. Like many men I don't find it easy to talk about feelings, so I thought this might be an easier way to get in touch with a few things that had been bothering me – particularly with regard to my feelings for Phoebe. So, during that process I began to recognize my attraction to her might be more than physical, might be more than amusement for her quirky and charming self and that I might, in fact, have fallen in love with her. I didn't know if she had similar feeling for me, so I asked her out for a dinner alone – just a date to see where things might go. We shared a few sexy slow dances, and that led to…

I honestly didn't expect to marry her that night. I know marriage is a very serious step, especially as I have three children to consider. But there didn't seem to be any other action to take that night. If asked how it happened, I don't know if I have an answer – everything seemed to happen very fast and very naturally. I don't even know if I proposed. I know Phoebe didn't. But holding her close on the dance floor and spending so long looking into her eyes – the answer was there before any question was asked. We were so in sync that night I don't think either of us gave our choice any thought. I know it wasn't a matter of _needing _to get married to fulfill our physical desires. We just _wanted _to get married. We both knew we were going to love, honor and be together forever so as it was inevitable – why wait? To anyone else, it might seem shocking that we never discussed marriage – but it never needed to be discussed between us or with anyone else for that matter.

That's where we found we were wrong. The short ceremony and the long wedding night were rapturous. I had never been so happy, and I knew Phoebe felt the same. I was so ecstatic with my new bride and the beginning of our blissful life together I never considered there may be other people in our lives not quite so thrilled with this meteoric change. After all, my children loved her. I knew they already related to her as if she were their mother, and months ago when it was seemed possible she might leave us to marry, they were despondent. I thought they would see my marriage to Phoebe as the best thing that could happen in their lives the same way I did. Now that she was my wife and their mother, she would stay with us forever. How could they be anything but as deliriously happy as Phoebe and I?

I soon found out that I don't know my children as well as I thought I did. Phoebe and I made an effort to be dressed and downstairs early that Sunday morning. What we had to tell the children was surprising enough; they didn't need to find us in bed together. Phoebe made a wonderful breakfast with all of the kids' favorites (mine too) and I even helped her a little. However, I don't know how helpful I was in the kitchen that morning. I continued to grab at her and kiss her; even wrapping myself around her as she tried to stir the pancake batter. But if I annoyed her she had a peculiar way of showing it – she giggled and pressed close to me – whispering promised pleasures if I behaved myself. Having no intentions of being a "good boy" as she requested, I was just about to suggest a quick trip back up the stairs when I heard the children's pounding footsteps.

Prudence was the first to enter the kitchen. She was eager and all smiles when she asked about our dinner out the night before. We had been quite open with telling the kids about our "date" and they had all been in favor of it. Hal even passed up a junior council dance to volunteer to baby sit for his younger siblings. Sitting at the table, both boys had twin expressions of happy anticipation to that question too. I exchanged a glance and a smile with Phoebe: this was going to be a beautiful and joyous morning for our now expanded family.

Then I saw Phoebe's smile fade. Her eyes grew wide and she started to rush from the room just as we heard the front door bang open then slam shut. In seconds Aunt Henrietta barged into the kitchen, scarves flying and her face an indignant shade of red. She glared at Phoebe and then at me.

And that was the end of our "beautiful and joyous" morning.

While Aunt Henrietta accused Phoebe of betraying her family by breaking her betrothal and rapid-firing a dozen questions at her; my children sat wide-eyed with shock as they tried to piece together what was being said. Phoebe attempted to calm the older woman and eventually managed to usher her out of the kitchen and into the living room. She turned to send me and the children an apologetic and concerned look. I tried to smile reassuringly, but that was before I had faced my kids.

Three sets of eyes stared up at me from the table. I hadn't planned on having this conversation with them alone, and found myself faltering as I had when I had to tell them their mother was sick and going to die. In that moment, I felt as alone as I did then, only this was supposed to be wonderful and glorious news. I had expected hugs and kisses all around. I had expected the same happiness and excitement from them that I was feeling: we were a whole family again and were beginning a new chapter together facing a promising future. I tried to explain that my marriage wasn't really going to make that big a difference in their day-to-day lives; Phoebe had been their nanny, now she was their stepmother so her role as their caretaker hadn't really changed. I thought that sounded logical, but Hal gave me a look of surprise, Butch looked confused and Prudence seemed ready to cry. I couldn't explain it to myself. I knew they loved her – what was so difficult for them to understand? What adjustments did they think they would have to make?

The front door slammed shut again and Phoebe came back to the kitchen looking drained. Her eyes were shadowed, but she smiled brightly at the children. She received the same stares they had given me. After a moment, Hal stood up and kissed her cheek. Butch and Prudence followed his example; then they left the kitchen without a word and without eating breakfast.

Phoebe and I would have protested if both the telephone and the doorbell hadn't started ringing simultaneously.

**Journal: Hers**

I began writing this journal when some of my thoughts and feelings began to tumble into a jumble. I felt that I was feeling a bit too content here, and that possibly some of the concerns expressed by my relatives might be justified. Since I had a home and a fiancé waiting for me, why was I so reluctant to leave this household? Yes, I loved these children, but was it possible I had more than mere pleasant affection for their kind and handsome father? I used this journal to write out some of those conflicted emotions and found they weren't so conflicted after all. Maybe attraction had turned into something else and I had fallen in love with Hal. I found myself in an unusual position for me; I didn't know how he really felt about me. I was curious and eager to accept his dinner date. However, how that date turned out…

I found myself a married woman after just one date – that very night! I had been engaged all of my life, and then I marry a man after one romantic evening. I had postponed my marriage to Cholmondeley for years and years, yet all I had to do was spend a few hours in Hal's arms and looking into his eyes and I was ready to commit the rest of my life to him. There seemed to be no choice. I don't remember him actually asking me to marry him, so I don't remember saying yes. Everything appeared to be happening in slow motion for me; yet suddenly there was no other course of action to be taken. We loved one another in every way possible; it was only the acknowledgement to each other that was needed. Once I knew he loved me and _only_ me, I committed to him forever. We didn't need that legal ceremony to seal our lives to one another; it was just a step that was going to happen so why not take it immediately? We had been living together and raising children together – nothing would really change in our lives but the expression and public knowledge of our love. That only made us happier; and it would make the children and our families happier as well.

Only that's not how it happened for everyone. I was amazed that such a short exchange of words had led to such a long exchange of physical wonders between us. I may not have been fully prepared for my role as wife and lover with Hal, but he made the transition so joyous and so thrilling I could barely remember my life before this. I felt as if I had always been his wife, had always been in his bed, and had always been the mother of his children. I trusted that entering my place beside him in the world would be as effortless and as happy as how it all happened between us. This marriage would contain more than just the two of us: I would be as happy a mother as I was a wife. I loved Hal's children and they loved me. My family liked and respected Hal. Everything promised to have a "happily ever after" fairy tale ending.

Now, throughout my years as a nanny, I had cautioned children not to believe in "happily ever after" endings. I taught children that in order to have a true "happily ever after" in life it takes hard work, dedication, foresight and careful planning.

So why didn't I remember that lesson now?

The morning after our wedding night Hal and I made certain we were downstairs before the children were awake. I may have lost my modesty with him, but I was still quite concerned to present a respectable picture to the children of their stepmother. They loved, trusted and respected me and I wanted them to accept me in my new role completely. I also wanted to celebrate and spoil them a little and make all of their favorite things for breakfast. I wanted to spoil Hal too. He had pampered and cared for me all night. I needed to show him I treasured him as much as he treasured me. Although he said he hovered over me to help me in the kitchen, the truth was he was much more interested in trying to get me back to bed than he was in being helpful. I promised him some appetizing amorous treats later if he'd be a "good boy" and keep his hands to himself until I was finished. I knew there was little chance of that – until we heard the children in the foyer and he released me.

We had been quite honest in telling the children we were going on a dinner date, and from the anticipatory smiles on their faces, I could tell they wanted a full report. With the candor of a seven-year-old, Prudence opened up the topic immediately and asked us about our dinner. Hal and I smiled at one another: this was going to be a wonderful and happy moment for our family.

But that was when everything started to go terribly wrong. I suddenly knew Aunt Henrietta was coming into the house. She knew about our marriage and was furious. In a flash I realized she wouldn't be the only Figalilly to demand an explanation from me that day. I tried to reach her before she could say anything in front of the children – then the front door crashed open and she burst into the kitchen questioning me in her loudest and haughtiest voice before I could stop her.

Hal looked startled and the children just stared. I used my most soothing voice and maneuvered my sputtering aunt out of the room. Looking back at Hal and the children I tried to convey my concern. I could feel his love and support, but the children were too overwhelmed for me to read.

Settling Aunt Henrietta on the sofa, I thought about our visit when she first arrived in town. We sat in this very spot when she tried to find out why I was still in this household. She told me then that I was in a rut; then told me I was in danger – anything to lure me into leaving. Now she was angrily asking questions. I tried to answer but was not given the opportunity. Feeling as I did as a child during one of her "dressing downs" I lowered my eyes to the carpet and waited for her to finish. Did I realize what I had done? Did I know how much this would hurt my parents? What was I going to say to Cholmondeley? What was I thinking when I allowed this man to –

That was when I found my voice. I calmly and firmly told my aunt that I was deeply in love with Hal and had made my decision to spend the rest of my life with him. I told her I had never been as happy as I was in this home, and that I was starting the most exciting adventure of my life: being a wife and mother. I explained that I didn't "allow" this man to do anything to me – that Hal and I had freely chosen one another and I expected the family to accept my husband and children as Figalilly's now. My aunt's eyes grew wide as I said my life really wouldn't be so very different: the exception being she may expect other additions to the family in the future.

Without another word Aunt Henrietta gathered her scarves around her, marched to the door and slammed it behind her. I hoped things were better with Hal and the children in the kitchen. Garnering my strength I joined them, but was met with silent stares from the children. Then, evidently obeying the good manners taught to him, my eldest stepson came up to me and wordlessly kissed my cheek. His younger siblings repeated the same gesture before following him out of the room.

I looked at the empty breakfast table and felt tears threaten. With my emotions clouded I didn't realize what was happening around me until the doorbell and the telephone rang at the same time.

**Journal: His **

I love my kids, I really do, but there are times when they act like spoiled brats. I was so happy about my marriage I thought they'd be thrilled – if only because I was so happy. Instead they were acting as if I'd told them I was canceling Christmas. I had no idea why they were acting that way, however, on that "Black Sunday" – as I had begun to privately call it – there was no time to sit down with them and discuss their concerns.

Immediately after the kids silently trooped out of the kitchen to go back to their rooms, I left the kitchen to answer the doorbell and Phoebe headed to respond to the ringing telephone. She looked surprised at the interruptions so early on a Sunday morning, and that surprised me. Phoebe always knew when the phone or doorbell was going to ring – and who was calling or visiting. I guess the reactions from the children upset her more than I'd realized.

Mrs. Fowler and Francine were at the door, both carrying arm loads of fresh cut flowers from their garden. They were wearing twin smiles of delight, although I detected a bit of a smirk at the corner of Mrs. Fowler's mouth. My puzzled look must have been profound because Mrs. Fowler answered my question before it was asked: her sister was the wife of the Justice of the Peace His Honorable Joseph T. Roberts. I tried to smile. I had thought our witness looked familiar, and her eyebrows had shot up to her hairline when she saw my name and address on the register. However, at the time both Phoebe and I were so wrapped up in each other that Peter Cottontail could have performed the marriage with the Tooth Fairy as witness and we wouldn't have noticed.

I didn't want to let Mrs. Fowler into the house but she insisted on seeing my bride and giving her "heartfelt congratulations" in person. Phoebe suddenly appeared in the foyer, smiling but with slightly reddened eyes. She was gracious in her acceptance of the flowers, the congratulations and the hugs, but I wanted to pull her away before Mrs. Fowler's interrogation would begin. The phone started ringing again, and I knew my sullen children were in no frame of mind to run interference for us with any other "well wishers". Phoebe excused herself to answer the phone, and I begged off continuing our visit with the Fowler's and ushered them back out of the door.

However, when I opened the door I saw a car pull up in front of the house. Don Stinson and Jim Lawrence were getting out of the car waving and sporting big grins. I smiled back weakly and waved back in greeting. Now I was certain Mrs. Fowler had scorched up the telephone lines all over town and in every neighboring county. She must have found our elopement the juiciest piece of gossip to have hit her ears since the high school music director was fired for smoking "funny cigarettes".

I wish I could say all of the calls and visits we received that day were from benign albeit nosy friends and neighbors. But between Mrs. Fowler and Aunt Henrietta, the bombardment of neighbors, co-workers, friends and relatives was overwhelming. I surmised that whoever those ladies couldn't reach by telephone they must have contacted by smoke signal. Neighbors I only knew in passing showed up at the door, parents of the children's friends "dropped in" after church services dragging their kids along, and even Lauren Fielding – Prudence's teacher who I'd taken out on exactly one date – came by with a congratulations and a grin on her lips that seemed to say to me: "I told you so."

By noon I had had enough. I told Phoebe I was turning off the ringers on the telephones and we weren't answering the door – at least until after we could have lunch and a quiet talk with the children. She agreed and even indulged the kids with their favorite lunch of frankfurters and beans. They all came to the meal obediently, but I think they only ate because of their skipped breakfast. We tried to explain about the elopement and to their credit, the kids tried to listen and understand. Hal nodded as if it all made sense to him, he just wondered why it all happened so suddenly. Butch thought it all seemed unnecessary, if nothing was going to change, then why get married? And Prudence just wanted to know why there couldn't have been a big wedding so everybody could get together and get dressed up for the party. I had no real answers for them. All I knew was it was all so perfect between Phoebe and me last night, and our decision seemed right.

So I found myself feeling guilty about how my kids were feeling, angry about my invasion of privacy, and embarrassed AND angry about assumptions being made about my life, my wife and our marriage – and some of those judgments were being made by perfect strangers!

After lunch I thought it was time to give the international phone lines a rest from the far- flung Figalilly family and decided it was time to call my family. Since my parents died my brothers were all I had in the way of immediate family. So first I called my eldest brother Bob. If the reception I had gotten from my kids was stunned – the response from Bob was almost shocked. A confirmed bachelor, he couldn't understand why I'd gotten married in the first place – let alone do it again. He thought I had it made: the great kids, the great social life and a beautiful woman under the roof. He'd really liked Phoebe when he'd visited – sure, she was great with the kids and with the house and with me… Why mess that up with marrying her?

Then it was my turn to be shocked. Did Bob really think there was more to my relationship with Phoebe all along? I put him straight immediately. I'd thought he'd known me better than that but I guess the way things looked now it was suspicious. Suddenly I felt very guilty about the way this appeared to others and how that reflected on Phoebe. After this quick elopement some people might see me a bit differently, but most would explain it away as the way men behave. A "fallen" woman however, is another story. How could I have placed Phoebe in this position? I was so happy to have her permanently in my life that I never considered how that would look to others – and what if that kind of talk got back to the children?

What had I done to the woman I love? What had I done to my family?

**Journal: Hers**

I was so confused and upset by the children's reactions I was actually surprised when the doorbell and the telephone rang. Aunt Henrietta had all but told me there would be a heavy price to pay for my actions when the family found out my news, but I didn't expect it all to happen so quickly. I'd felt guilty having left Hal alone to talk with the children. That was something for us to do together, and the children needed to begin to see us as their parents in every way. I so desperately wanted to be their mother, not just in name or in my caretaking role, but fully in their hearts.

Hal went to the door and I picked up the phone. By then my thoughts had cleared enough and I knew who was calling: my parents. As I'd expected, they were warm and understanding, but I could sense some disapproval in their voices, particularly in my mother's. Neither asked me why this marriage had happened so suddenly, but I knew they were relieved when I told them it was a quick decision because it was inevitable. There was no _need _to marry, beyond the reason that we loved each other deeply. Any immediacy was due to the fact that we had come to that understanding between us so quickly that there seemed to be no reason to wait. I told them the love I had for Hal was complete – the kind of love that makes a happy marriage and lasts longer than a lifetime – the kind of love they shared. I explained that the love I had for my husband was not at all like the fondness and affection I had always had for Cholmondeley, whom I loved as a friend and a brother.

My parents seemed to understand. Although they sounded hurt at not having met their son-in-law and new grandchildren first, I assured them my decision was never meant to exclude them or anyone in the family. By the time we had hung up, I was tearful, more because I had slighted their feelings and did miss them. I asked my parents if they could please visit soon and bring my younger sister Cecily with them. They agreed to consider this, and would contact Cecily immediately so she could speak with me soon. I somehow felt my sister would understand my decision better than my parents did, but I also knew by not having discussed things with her first, she would be disappointed too.

I hung up the phone and knew Mrs. Fowler and Francine were in the foyer. I didn't want Hal to feel as if he had to protect me from every well-wisher in town, so I joined him there. I heard the congratulations for what they were: both honest and prying. Hugging our neighbors I realized Mrs. Fowler had always "suspected" something untoward was going on in this house. Although I'd had glimpses into her thoughts before, now they seemed to be gleeful – as if she now felt justified in her improper imaginings. Despite the fact that her visit had taken me aback during the confusion that morning it was very expected. I knew the matronly wife of the Justice of the Peace was Mrs. Fowler's sister although at the time I was so deliriously happy (and a bit new bride nervous) I took very little notice. Honestly, given what must be the naturally nosy natures of both sisters, I was more surprised Mrs. Fowler hadn't been a first hand witness when Hal carried me over the threshold late last night.

Luckily or unluckily the Fowlers' visit was cut short by another telephone call and the arrival of two of Hal's friends. The early Sunday morning hour didn't seem to deter anyone. And those visits marked the beginning of what was to be an onslaught all day: friends, neighbors, parents, acquaintances – it was all I could do to keep up with pouring coffee and setting out refreshments. Luckily I had done all of my baking earlier in the week and there was no shortage of cookies and cake. The children did make an appearance when several of their friends arrived – with their inquiring parents – but I'm afraid their quiet attitude gave wagging tongues even more to wag about. Fortunately Hal didn't have the time to notice. More than one of his coworkers – and ex-lady friends – had showed up with congratulations and curiosity and his focus was diverted from the children.

I would like to say that I was above feeling any petty jealousies when those ex-girlfriends came to call, but in truth I found I did not like seeing my new husband embraced by any attractive females. I trust Hal completely, but realized that along with being a fiercely devoted wife came some fiercely possessive feelings. That morning I discovered it was difficult having to share my handsome husband with anyone. We met our unexpected guests together, but found demands for our attention divided us from one another constantly. We were each called into separate conversations both in person and on the telephone.

I had calls from relatives far and wide: my sister telephoned from Exeter but could only speak for a moment and promised to ring me the next day. I suspected she had to gather her thoughts before we could have a real conversation. Cholmondeley called to offer what sounded like forced congratulations and wishes for my happiness – he was in India and claimed to be short on rupees which made the call brief. My aunts Justine and Agatha tried to telephone – twice – but the connection from wherever they were in the USSR was very poor. I only heard Aunt Agatha's drawling innuendoes about "marital bliss" before the call was disconnected.

Near lunchtime there was a lull in both the visitors and the calls, and I took the opportunity to get my kitchen in order for the noon meal. I thought making the children's favorite lunch might lure them into the kitchen, and I was right. They came to lunch and ate, but were more subdued than I had ever seen them. Hal had made certain the five of us would have some uninterrupted time together that day – going so far as to turn off the ringers on the phones and refusing to answer the door. I agreed. Talking with the children was by far the most important thing we had to accomplish. I felt they tried to understand, they really did, it just all seemed so confusing to them. I knew they were each wondering what this marriage really meant for them and how all of our lives would change. In spite of Hal's reassurance that things would be much the way they had been, I sensed the children didn't quite believe that. They didn't understand why things had happened so quickly, and why they hadn't been told first. We didn't have an honest response for that – not for them and not for ourselves. The suddenness of the decision had shocked us both. How could Hal and I explain what we had been feeling and how right and perfect our decision had been, when we really didn't understand it completely for ourselves?

Feeling overwhelmed and as if nothing had really been resolved, I was glad when Hal went into his den to call his brothers. I wanted time alone to get the house in order. I was always like that: when my feelings were turbulent, I took on household tasks. Sometimes putting things in their proper places helped me to sort my emotions. Although I was unsuccessful this time, I needed some time to myself. The children had made themselves scarce after lunch, but I was not in the frame of mind to discuss or enforce their chore responsibilities that day.

Completing things to my satisfaction, I finally sat alone at the kitchen table with a hot cup of tea. The house was unusually quiet for a day when everyone was at home. I took the time to go over all that had happened in what was less than twenty-four hours. A day ago my biggest worry was what to wear and what to say on my first date with Hal. Now I was a married woman concerned about her three confused stepchildren, disappointed and sometimes angry relatives, and a seemingly endless supply of curious and suspicious friends, neighbors and acquaintances. And through all of it both Hal and I were dealing with things in our own ways, our separate ways, despite trying to maintain a united front when all of those visitors came to call. I knew we loved each other and supported one another, but if that were really the case, why were we each coping with relatives alone? I knew he had been struggling in his conversation with his brother Bob, and was looking for loving encouragement from his great-aunt. Shouldn't I be part of those conversations? Weren't we one family now?

I knew Hal was very concerned about the children. He loved them so very much and had been father and mother to them for a long time. He was worried how this sudden elopement looked to some neighbors, friends and relatives and didn't want the children believing there was anything less between their father and their stepmother than love, honor and respect. That was present before our marriage and that was present now and would be there forever. Would this quick marriage somehow harm the secure world both Hal and I had tried to rebuild for them after the death of their mother?

What had I done to the man I love and his children? What had I done to our families?

**Journal: His**

After talking with Bob on Sunday, I tried to reach my brother Ben – but he was in Hong Kong on business. I left messages but who knew when he'd get them? So I called my Great Aunt Adelaide. I'd always been her favorite nephew, and I could count on her support. As expected she was thrilled at my news and said she couldn't wait to meet my new wife! She sent love and kisses and promised to visit soon. Although a short call, it had made me feel better – Aunt Adelaide was a bit daffy, but she was a kind and loving old soul who had seen and experienced much in her life. She told me not to worry about my children's reticence – in time they would adjust beautifully. At that moment that was just what I needed to hear – I needed all of the encouragement I could get. I knew Phoebe loved me, but since we both seemed to be doing battle with our families that day, it didn't seem the time to ask for her to bolster me. And I'm afraid I didn't do such a good job of taking care of her that Sunday.

There were more calls and visits that afternoon, and after a nearly sleepless Saturday night, the emotional Sunday seemed all the longer and more tiring. So following a lavish but quiet meal with the kids, we all made it an early night. Hal seemed uncomfortable knowing where his new stepmother was now sleeping, but the younger two kids seemed oblivious. We tucked them in as usual, but there was an awkward moment when Phoebe remembered all of her things were still in her old room. With a polite formality more fitting to our previous roles, she excused herself to get ready for bed.

Suddenly I realized we hadn't shared one moment alone since before breakfast that morning. I hadn't kissed her or held her or even touched her hand. During all of the visits we had presented ourselves as a couple – or tried to – but perhaps because of the intentional or unintentional innuendoes we still maintained a distance from one another in front of everyone. That would have to change.

After a quick shower and shave, I got into bed and almost automatically reached for a book. Then I chuckled to myself. No, I wouldn't need a novel as companion any longer. Glancing around the room I wondered at the decidedly unfeminine décor. I was looking forward to having the look of the room change to include Phoebe's taste and personality. Although it had taken awhile to remove all of Mary's belongings – a few things were in storage for Prudence – once I was ready, I had changed the room completely. I'd even had twin beds in the room for whenever my brothers visited. However, was glad I had a new double bed in the room now. Thinking back, I didn't remember why I did that – maybe Phoebe would think it was an intuitive move on my part in preparing the room for a new wife. Perhaps _she_ was the reason I bought the new bed – maybe it was her psychic influence that made me do it. Or perhaps it was my unconscious desire after all of those dreams I had had of her…

I must have dozed off briefly, because the next thing I was aware of was hearing the bedroom door lock. Opening my eyes, I saw the vision of my lovely Phoebe crossing the room approaching what was now "her" side of the bed. That was no dream. There was a jolting moment of surprise to realize again that she really was my wife and that she belonged here. After a day of what seemed like justifying our relationship, I knew then and there was my reward for our making the right decision to marry. She smiled at me – wherever had she been keeping that beautiful white lace negligee? – but her dark blue eyes held the tiniest hesitation.

Sweeping back the covers in invitation, she joined me in the bed and met my lips in an ardent kiss. All of the tension, confusion and stress of the day unraveled in that kiss. Her eager embrace welcomed me, and her yielding, fragrant body pressed against me enticingly. The smooth lace created a delicious friction on my bare skin as I caressed her curves through the thin fabric – my touch unerring when guided by her sighs and moans. Again, there were very few words; no conversing necessary when you understood each other's needs as well as we did. Phoebe's searching mouth and gentle touch encouraged me to follow her down onto the pillows. Her tender flesh was far more tempting than any down pillows or mattress and I willingly fell deep into her softness.

**XXXXXXXXX **

In spite of another perfect night – and early morning – the following dawn brought not only another day but another week. If I had thought "Black Sunday" was bad, I really wasn't prepared for "Bloody Monday". Although the kids took some solace being back on their school week routine and were more communicative at breakfast; they all looked away when I kissed Phoebe goodbye that morning. Still, I was cheered when she smiled at me, and her blue eyes sparkled when Waldo barked his approval.

Everyone at Clinton University seemed to know my news long before I arrived. There were waves and calls of "Congratulations!" in the parking lot and during the brief walk to my office. My secretary was all smiles, and the paperwork for changing my benefits package to include a spouse was all neatly stacked on the center of my desk blotter. There was a very nice note from my dean, and a pile of pink telephone message slips. I was surprised to see the names of students along with faculty, as well as a few of the faculty women I had dated. Yes, it was an annoying invasion of our privacy, but it was still rather heartwarming to see so much good will. However, I wasn't certain how much of that supposed "good will" was fueled by "good gossip". Had there been rumors about my relationship with Phoebe that I was oblivious to over the years? Was this something people had been waiting to see happen? Maybe what I had thought was well concealed attraction and desire for her wasn't all that well concealed after all.

That last thought was confirmed when between my first class and second I stopped by my office to answer some of those phone messages and received a call from my brother Ben. The connection was awful, but the conversation was worse – Ben all but accused me of HAVING to get married! In fact, he started the call by saying: "Well Hal, what did you do?" Evidently Bob had talked to him first but hadn't clarified that I didn't DO anything but get married. I tried to explain that to Ben through the static, but all I heard in response was a chuckle – at least he said "congratulations" before the call was cut off.

I received similar, but more veiled, comments from the coffee and donut "think tank" of friendly co-workers I met three times a week after my second class. They toasted my marriage with tomato juice and congratulated me on my excellent choice: they all knew Phoebe and – well – it was impossible for anyone not to like her. Still, I felt myself being defensive when on the receiving end of a few winks and grins. What they said was respectful, but in some instances what they were thinking was blatant – I guess some of this grist for the rumor mill would take a few months to grind down.

The only colleague who seemed sincere in his well wishes without any side glance or smirk was Professor Englund. The self-professed psychic genuinely liked and admired Phoebe, and was quite at ease with her "abilities". He smiled and shook my hand warmly when he congratulated me, and told me he knew we would be very happy together. Englund wasn't someone I counted among my friends, but I had new found respect for him that day – maybe there was something to his "abilities" after all. Given the way things had started off when we broke the news, I certainly hoped he was right about ALL of us being happy together.

Needing some time away from the almost constant attention, I decided to grab a sandwich and eat lunch secluded in my office. I telephoned Phoebe – I just needed to hear her voice – and although she sounded warm and loving, I could hear some underlying strain. She'd had more visits and calls, but nothing she wanted to bother me about. I started to tell her she wouldn't be bothering me – but then I realized I didn't want to upset her with the calls and comments I had received either. She told me to "hurry home" in her soft and alluring bedroom voice, and if my Monday-Wednesday-Friday schedule wasn't so hectic, I would have dropped the phone and rushed to her.

However, there was something I needed to do that couldn't be put off any longer. Since our families had reacted far differently than I'd expected; I knew I had to tell the children's maternal grandparents and aunt and uncle about their new stepmother as soon as possible. Mary's retired parents spent part of the year living in a town outside of Rome where her grandparents had been born; I would compose a short letter to them and invite them to come visit us when they were back in the States. They had met Phoebe when they came to see the children last year and they had liked her. Hopefully they would have time to absorb the news before they met us all again. But the kids' Aunt Sarah lived in Chicago and their Uncle Cliff was in Phoenix. Once I called them, I knew we were in for a visit from each. The kids loved their aunt and uncle and would enjoy them coming into town, but I was afraid that Phoebe and I would be in for more family interrogation.

As expected, Sarah met the news coolly and with some suspicion in her voice. Too polite to say anything over the phone, she told me she planned to call the children that evening and would visit them as soon as she could get away. Cliff tried to sound happy for us, but I could tell he felt hurt. He had been very close to Mary and didn't think there was a woman in the world that could take her place. He also said he and his family would visit during the summer school break in a few months. I knew the kids would like to see their uncle, aunt and cousins, but I was also feeling as if I had opened up my life to the scrutiny of everyone. All I had wanted to do was marry the woman I loved and have my family whole and complete again. Why did this instead feel as if my entire family was splintering apart?

**Journal: Hers:**

Figalilly's are usually very active people so if something isn't right in our lives we go about trying to fix it. We are also usually very optimistic people and have faith that if you believe you are doing the right thing – everything will work out for the best for all concerned. So that Sunday I gathered my strength and set about to making things right in the household again. I got up from the kitchen table after a bracing cup of tea and began to get my baking things together. A few dozen cookies to replenish those devoured earlier today, two loaves of fresh baked bread for dinner, and a thick chocolate fudge cake might set some moods right. Also, kneading and pounding bread dough is generally very therapeutic for me whenever I am feeling on edge about anything. And if that doesn't work, I'll start work on another afghan.

In spite of more visitors "dropping in" and more telephone calls, my dinner and my baking all came out beautifully. I tried to make everybody's favorite "comfort foods": Hal is very partial to my homemade chicken soup, Butch loves pot roast, Prudence would eat nothing but mashed potatoes if I allowed her and their father got his favorite dessert. I even put extra gravy on Waldo's dinner. I knew he was sensing tension all around him, and missed the boys' playing fetch with him in the backyard as they usually did in the afternoons. He had sulked under the table until I gave him that special treat – then he fell happily asleep with his tummy full and content.

The human members of the family were much less easily appeased. There was little dinner conversation, and after the children cleared the table, they excused themselves to do their homework. Admittedly I was tired after not sleeping very much the night before and all of the stress and all of the work I had done that day. Still, I declined Hal's offer of helping clean up the kitchen as I wanted him to spend more time with the children – even if it was just helping with their homework – before bedtime.

After finishing up in the kitchen, I headed out to the backyard to spend some time with the animals. As the baking had fallen quite short of alleviating my anxieties that day, I thought spending time outdoors with my four-legged friends would help. But talking to two goats, a rabbit, a rooster and two guinea pigs had a limited soothing effect on my nerves in spite of their very compassionate natures. When Prudence's cat, Scheherazade, wound herself around my ankles to calm me, I picked her up and stoked her soft fur. Although that helped a bit, I knew my answers weren't to be found in the company of animals this time.

Hal and I put the children to bed together, then stood in the hallway in front of his room and stared at one another. We hadn't been alone since very early that morning, and after all that had happened that day, our time together seemed very far away. I suddenly realized all of my things were in my old room. In all of that Sunday's confusion, I hadn't even thought to move into my "new" bedroom – and neither had Hal. I didn't want to think about what that lapse might have meant, but I could feel from him that he very much wanted me to come back into our bedroom that night. Not able to meet his eyes, I merely nodded at him and headed back to my old room.

I carefully prepared myself for bed that night. The previous night, my unexpected wedding night, I had no time ready myself for such an enormous and life changing event. I went from first date to bride to wife in only a few hours without a moment to collect myself. Now I had the time to look at myself in the mirror and tell myself that I was Mrs. Phoebe Everett – not only did I have three children, a house to tend and a variety of animals to see too – I was also a wife with a loving husband to please. And I very much wanted to please Hal. I knew our wedding night had not been an anomaly between us, but I couldn't take such an experience for granted either. After all, we had gone all day as if our marriage didn't exist – except to defend ourselves and our decision to others. Nothing had passed between us since before breakfast that was different than what had come before in the years we had known one another. I wondered if we could change that.

I dressed in something I knew he would like: soft, white old-fashioned lace that both clung to my body and flowed around me in a flattering way. I liked the way it made me feel, and I liked the way I knew he would admire me wearing it for him. Before leaving I looked around at the familiar room and realized it had already changed._ I_ had changed and there was no going back. Tomorrow I would begin to move pieces of my previous life into the space I would now occupy as wife and mother in this home. After all of the uncertainty of the day, I began once again to feel the excitement and the joy of what was a new and wonderful journey I was taking with the man I loved more than anything in this world.

When I entered his room – o_ur room _I reminded myself – I glanced around that familiar space with something close to amazement. As housekeeper, I had been in this room countless times, and I remembered sometimes feeling a tiny thrill entering that masculine and intimate sanctuary that was all Hal's. So very different than being in his office, although the den was filled with his presence also, this was where he slept and dreamed and let go of the restraints and boundaries of the outside world. This was the place where he had allowed himself to dream of _me _and the place I could only fully enter through his mind and through his heart.

The night before when I had come into this room, I was still riding on the tidal wave of his desire – _our _desire. Now I entered clear headed and self-possessed. This was my room now as well; this was a space I could claim as completely as I claimed Hal. And this room had also changed, just as my old room was now altered. Seeing him lying on the bed asleep, I realized he had made space for me in the bed. Things had totally changed for him as well. I locked our door to ensure we kept one part of our private lives private and went to take my rightful place by his side.

Hal woke and was watching me with those brilliant, dazzling blue eyes. For a moment the look in his eyes took my breath away. So I smiled to hide how overwhelmed I became at times like these – how weak I felt when I realized this beautiful man was finally mine. He opened up his arms to me, pushing back the bedclothes to reveal his bare chest and arms and shoulders. He was irresistible and I slipped across the sheets to enter those strong, safe arms. I clutched wide, muscular shoulders and felt his broad chest firm next to me. His hungry mouth devoured mine, and I willingly surrendered to his searching lips and silent but direct demands.

Once again I marveled at his perfect touch – was he reading my mind or was I reading his? How could there be any doubt that we were meant to be together? What we had went far beyond the physical. Although my moans were almost constant and I trembled with the force of my passion, what I was feeling was centered in my heart – my very soul. I held him close, pulling him ever nearer to me, wanting him in a place so deep within me no mere flesh could plunder.

**XXXXXXXXX**

I fell into my role as wife and lover almost effortlessly. "Bliss" seems too mild a word to express my experiences with Hal as his bride. However, the joy of becoming an instant mother weren't as apparent, even the next day. The children weren't very comfortable with our mild displays of affection, or with our calling one another by our given names. I realized none of the children had called me or referred to me by any name. I supposed I should be grateful they were speaking to me at all. Luckily the four-legged family appeared to be in favor of the new arrangement. As I moved some of my belongings from my old bedroom to my new one Waldo trotted beside me wagging his tail happily.

Once I had told the children that whenever I dropped a spoon, an unexpected visitor arrived. Well, I hadn't dropped a spoon in weeks, but between that Monday and the previous Sunday it seemed as if I must have dropped a drawer full. Telephone calls and visits continued and even telegrams began to arrive. As Uncle Alfred and Uncle Horace were both living in the South Seas sharing a bachelor apartment, together they sent a cheerful (and colorfully worded) telegram of congratulations. Hal would be amused by it, but it was not for the eyes of the children.

Mrs. Kaufman showed up with a lovely basket of apricot cookies and a batch of lavender from her garden for "bedroom sachets". She was a dear, old soul, but the way she fussed over me and told me to be certain I took things easy, made me think she believed there was more to my elopement than just falling in love and _wanting _to get married. Politely I informed her there was no need for me to "take things easy" as I was in perfectly good health. She smiled indulgently as if to indicate she understood my need to keep up appearances, and then patted my hand reassuringly.

I knew there were many that would prefer to accept what seemed to be instead of wanting to find out what really is, so I stopped myself from any further explanations. People were going to believe whatever they chose to believe about Hal and me, and only time would convince those with suspicious and unsavory notions that they were wrong. Still, it was wearing to feel as if you had to defend yourself, especially to family. The expected call from Cecily came, and although she was supportive and enthusiastic about my choice, she did tell me Aunt Agatha had mentioned to her how "handsome, masculine and forceful" Hal was – how could a girl resist? I started to tell Cecily that wasn't how things had happened – I wasn't a schoolgirl swept off my feet – but realized even my intuitive sister wouldn't believe me until she met Hal and saw us together. She did promise to visit as soon as her schedule allowed – she was thrilled to have nephews and a niece to spoil

When it was early afternoon I realized I needed some things at the market for dinner. I was happy to get out of the house and away from the telephone. Once there, I was met with smiles and congratulations from people I had only seen in passing, as well as the check-out girl and the bag boy. Did everyone in town know the news at our house? Did everyone in town _expect _the news at our house? The thought made me very uneasy. Leaving the market I was met in the parking lot by the ex-recluse and children's entertainer Mr. Peabody. Since the children and I had refurbished his front yard and drawn him out of his isolation, he had become quite the sociable gossip. He greeted me by dropping a kiss on the back of my hand and offering hearty congratulations. I would have been very touched if he hadn't added a wink and a smile that had the ends of his moustache quivering.

Reaching home, all I wanted was a short sit-down with a nice cup of tea. But almost as soon as the groceries were unpacked, the children were home with their own troubles. I managed to discover that Hal was embarrassed over a comment some older boy made on the bus; Butch was angry at something a classmate repeated that was obviously a remark made by his parents; and Prudence was in tears when a friend told her that all stepmothers were "wicked" – just like in all of the story books. I tried to talk to each of them, but found that after years of tending to these children, my comfort suddenly wasn't welcome. After bringing them to a healthy, happy and thriving place, my hopes of completing this family by being wife and mother was tearing it apart.


End file.
